Everybody's Changing
by chaos for the fly
Summary: There is more to Draco Malfoy than he lets on. Severus Snape has a family. The story is based around the Half-Blood Prince, and tells the tale of Anne Prince, an original character who learns about the value of friendship, family, and love. Please consider leaving a review to let me know your thoughts. Constructive criticism is appreciated as well as positive feedback.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** While I did my best to keep the events and characters as close to canon as possible, there are times when these may deviate. All of the original characters in this story are of my own creation. Thank you for reading!

* * *

 **Prologue:**

"Anne, dear!" her mother called from the garden.

"I'll be right there!" Anne yelled back, having spotted the owl from her bedroom window.

She sprinted down the stairs. Of course she had known about Hogwarts almost since birth, but it was still hard not to be excited about her Hogwarts letter. Along with the owl, Anne noticed Severus Snape making his way up the path toward their home.

"Vivian," he greeted her mother with a nod, as Anne took the letter from the tawny owl that had just landed on the gate.

"How are you, Severus?" Vivian Prince smiled.

Anne interrupted before he could respond.

"It's here, mum! It's finally here!" she squealed, frantically waving the letter in her mother's face. "We'll have to go to Diagon Alley and —" she started before her mother cut her off.

"You'll have to forgive my daughter, Severus," Vivian said to him, "Hogwarts is all she's been talking about for weeks," she laughed. "Nicholas is waiting for you upstairs in his study."

Snape nodded and left the two of them in the garden as he entered the manor to meet with Anne's father. Anne watched the back of the greasy-haired man's head as he walked away. She knew he was her father's cousin, but he rarely visited. She couldn't worry too much about his unexpected presence at the moment, however, because she was too ecstatic about the arrival of her letter.

•¥•

Anne's magical schooling began long before Hogwarts, as was customary to the old wizard families. From the time she spoke her first word, she knew she would attend the famous school for witchcraft and wizardry. Her parents answered all of her questions and always encouraged learning. Thus she grew up with a healthy curiosity and an insatiable hunger for knowledge.

While her parents were supportive of Anne's curiosity, there were questions they would not answer. So she found alternative ways of learning the information her parents told her that she was too young to know.

Once she started attending classes at Hogwarts, Anne quickly learned that asking questions was not always the best way to get information from people. Therefore, late at night, while her parents thought she was sleeping, Anne would sneak into her father's library and read for hours about all of the subjects her parents refused to teach her. At a young age, she was fascinated by the dark arts and all of the magic that had been deemed too dangerous or advanced to include in a school textbook.

From her father's books, and her visits to the Restricted Section of the school library (with permission slips signed by Severus Snape), she taught herself to brew potions likely never introduced even to seventh year students and, by the time she was fourteen, had mastered spells that many adult wizards would never consider attempting.

Over the years, Anne Prince had learned a lot of things that she shouldn't know, but she did not yet know everything that she should. The night before she was due to start her sixth year at Hogwarts, as she sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace in her father's study, reading from a large leather-bound tome, she thought back to when she had first arrived at the magical school.

•¥•

 _"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, going on to explain the Sorting and the four Houses._

 _"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes. I shall return when we are ready for you," she continued. "Please wait quietly."_

 _Many of the new students looked terrified and had no trouble waiting quietly, except for one girl who was whispering excitedly about what the Sorting would entail. Everyone gasped when the ghosts showed up. Anne smiled as a pudgy ghost greeted them._

 _"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Fat Friar exclaimed, before Professor McGonagall returned and dismissed the ghosts._

 _"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start," she informed them. "Now, form a line and follow me."_

 _The Great Hall was even more beautiful than Anne's parents had told her it would be. Thousands of candles floated above the four long House tables, which were laid out with golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall, the teachers sat at another long table, and it was to this table that the first years were led._

 _As she stood facing the hundreds of other students, Anne saw McGonagall place down a stool and on it, the old Sorting Hat, which began singing almost immediately._

 _After the hat finished its song, Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a roll of parchment._

 _"When I call your name," she instructed, "you will step forward, place the hat on your head, and sit on the stool to be sorted."_

 _Anne watched several students try on the hat while she waited for her name to be called. She knew she had a long wait ahead of her with the last name Prince. Finally, a name she recognized was called._

 _"Malfoy, Draco!" Professor McGonagall read from the scroll._

 _Anne rolled her eyes as Draco swaggered forward. The hat hardly touched his giant head before it screamed, "Slytherin!"_

 _She stuck her tongue out at him as he sauntered by her on his way to the House table._

 _"Good luck," he declaimed arrogantly._

 _Next to Anne, a girl with a puggish face giggled._ There must be something wrong with her, _Anne thought. A few more names were called before the girl moved._

 _Apparently, her name was "Parkinson, Pansy." Anne cringed as Pansy hurried toward the Slytherin table to sit next to Draco._ There is definitely something wrong with her, _Anne decided as she began inspecting the House tables, trying to figure out which group might best suit her. She considered her parents' old Houses. Her mother had been in Ravenclaw (wit beyond measure), while her father was a proud Slytherin._

 _Just as Anne began thinking of the sort of friends she might make in Hufflepuff, the Great Hall erupted in noisy cheers of "We got Potter! We got Potter!"_

 _Anne turned to see the famous boy, Harry, at the Gryffindor table, shaking hands with a redheaded boy wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a shiny prefect badge pinned to his robes._

 _After the cheering quieted slightly, Anne's name was called and she stepped forward, silently hoping that she wouldn't be forced to spend the next seven years sharing a common room with Draco Malfoy._


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One:**

Pansy was still babbling about Malfoy when Anne decided to interrupt her.

"Where the hell are we going?" she asked, forcing Pansy to cease her adulation of Draco.

It felt like hours to Anne since the two left the Slytherin common room for this spontaneous adventure. Anne was starting to wonder if Pansy might be lost. After all, Pansy Parkinson was often blissfully unaware of anything that did not pertain to her obnoxious, so-called, boyfriend.

"Oh," Pansy started, "Draco wanted me to…" she sighed longingly and her eyes glazed over causing her to nearly walk into a wall.

Anne was beyond irritated.

"Do you mean to tell me that you have been dragging me around Hogwarts, for Merlin knows how long, because of _Malfoy_!?"

Pansy blinked at Anne's outburst.

"He said —" she began.

"I don't give a damn what that idiot said!" Anne interjected. "I'm going back to the common room."

She turned and began walking briskly toward the dungeons, paying no mind as Pansy hurried to catch up to her. Anne was so frustrated that she nearly collided with "that idiot," who was closely followed by a boy whom she didn't recognize. She scowled. _Speak of the devil._

"Watch where you're going," Draco snarled.

"Draco, darling," Pansy drawled, completely disregarding the others' presence.

He ignored her, his attention still focused on Anne.

"Malfoy," Anne said through her teeth, glaring at him and examining the other boy. The stranger seemed to be the epitome of tall, dark, and, admittedly, handsome. She looked away before he could catch her staring.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Pansy latched onto his arm before he could even draw breath.

"Draco," she cooed, "where were you?"

"I thought I told you to wait in the common room," he snapped impatiently.

"Well I got tired of waiting," she pouted. "You were taking so long, and I missed you."

She moved to kiss him, but Draco quickly turned his head so she got his cheek instead. Of course that didn't stop Pansy from fawning. Anne rolled her eyes, moving away from them and leaning against a nearby wall to watch Draco attempt to break free. After several minutes of unintelligible arguing, he finally pushed Pansy away indignantly and composed himself.

"Later," Anne heard him mutter under his breath.

Pansy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Anne as though it were her fault that Draco showed no interest in Pansy's attentions.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she inquired of the stranger, apparently noticing him for the first time.

"That's none of your business," he informed her.

"Oh, this one talks," Anne observed, commenting on the difference between this stranger and the normally silent Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco exhaled in amusement before introducing the boy.

"Prince, this is Zabini," he told her.

"Is this another member of your entourage, Malfoy?" She eyed the strange boy curiously, "He looks too smart to be hanging around the likes of you. Where are your bodyguards, anyway?"

Draco's eyes darkened.

"Detention," he scoffed, and then cleared his throat.

"Detention?" Anne questioned, taken aback, "but classes haven't even started yet."

"This is Prince," Draco continued, as he looked from Anne to the boy, ignoring her insinuated question.

She could see that he really wanted to say more, but he had the foresight to keep it to himself. _Smart boy_ , she thought. There was a moment of weighted silence before Zabini spoke.

"Hello," he managed, extending his hand to her and smiling at her in a way that showed off his perfect teeth.

She acknowledged his greeting with a curt nod.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

She glared at Draco as she pushed off the wall and resumed her walk back to the common room. She smiled in spite of herself as she heard Pansy snorting at Zabini.

"Ha, she's immune!"

"Stuff it, Parkinson!" Zabini retorted. "Who said I was interested in her anyway?"

 _Like I care_ , Anne thought as she left the sound of their voices behind.

•¥•

She didn't realize that Zabini was following her until he spoke.

"So, Prince," he murmured, startling her.

Thankfully, he did not seem to notice her jump. Anne turned to reply.

"You remembered my name," she gasped in mock surprise. "I'm flattered, Zabini. Here I was thinking you weren't interested in me," she quipped caustically then turned her back on him, relishing his grim expression.

She kept walking and he continued to follow, their steps echoing as they descended further into the castle dungeons.

"Why are you following me?" she asked in order to fill the silence.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but the common room is this way, and unfortunately, we're in the same House," he replied quickly.

"Unfortunately for whom?" she returned.

"We weren't properly introduced," he said coolly, changing the subject. "What's your full name, Miss Prince?" he asked as he moved to match her stride.

"Does it matter?" she laughed, knowing that Draco and his cronies usually referred to each other by their surnames.

"I'm Blaise," he supplied, "Blaise Zabini."

 _Why me_ , she thought while trying her best to ignore him. Blaise seemed to understand that he wasn't getting an answer. He did not speak again until they reached the common room entrance.

"You're not going to tell me," he stated.

Anne sighed then muttered the password and waited. As the wall slowly slid open, she turned to look straight into his eyes, noticing again how tall he was.

"No," she confirmed, "I am not."

She turned away and walked into the watery green light of the common room as he called behind her.

"I'll find out, Prince! I enjoy a challenge."

•¥•

Later that night, Anne was slouching in an armchair with her eyes half-closed when Pansy arrived, alone. Anne was pondering her conversation with Blaise and lacked the energy to provide her usual commentary on Draco and Pansy's dysfunctional relationship.

"What's wrong with you?" Pansy asked.

"Tired," she yawned, "I don't suppose I have to ask what _you_ were doing."

"We should go to bed soon," Pansy declared, ignoring the half-hearted jab.

"I know," Anne responded, annoyed.

Pansy shrugged, dropping onto the chair across from Anne's.

"I wish Draco would talk to me," she sighed. "He's so distant this year."

Anne didn't have the patience for Pansy's complaining tonight. She never witnessed those two have a conversation outside of their group. Anne actually questioned why Draco bothered with the pug-faced girl at all. It didn't make sense to her; maybe he simply enjoyed the extra attention.

"He's just," Pansy pressed on, "different."

"Uh… Yeah," Anne mumbled, standing up, "well, I'm leaving."

Pansy had no comment until she noticed that her roommate was not headed toward the girls' dormitories.

"Where are you going?" she asked, briefly forgetting Draco.

"Are you coming with me?" Anne offered, knowing that Pansy, who was a prefect and frightful of authority, would decline.

"Of course not," she affirmed.

"Then you don't need to know," Anne smirked, and then disappeared, leaving Pansy gaping at the place where she had just been.

"Don't get caught by Filch," Pansy warned.

Anne did not need the warning, however, as she hadn't really left the common room as Pansy thought she would. Instead, following her nonverbal disillusionment charm, Anne headed toward the boys' dormitories. It had always been funny to her that girls were considered more trustworthy than boys and were thus allowed to visit the boys' rooms, while the boys were magically deterred from visiting the girls' rooms, even disguised.

None of the girls but Anne however, as far as she knew, ever visited the boys at night. She glanced around the hall until she found the suite she was looking for, sixth years. Counting the doors, she found that Draco's had been left slightly ajar. _Where's he gone off to now?_ she mused as she peeked inside the room curiously. There was already someone asleep in the other bed. Of course, this was the first time she had visited Draco's room at bedtime.

She stepped in quietly, careful to leave the door as she had found it. The boy in the bed didn't stir; he was sleeping soundly, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he wasn't dead. She wondered who he was. As she walked closer, she noticed it was Blaise Zabini.

 _So he's Draco's roommate_. The fact surprised her slightly, as she had thought Draco shared his room with either Crabbe or Goyle, never having seen the room's other occupant in there before. She made her way slowly toward Draco's bed, careful not to disturb Zabini's slumber. As Pansy had mentioned earlier, Draco _was_ different this year. The two hadn't really spoken much since the Triwizard Tournament, and Anne was curious about what exactly Malfoy was up to.

She pointed her wand at his trunk, unlocking it and searching through his things indiscriminately, making a mental note of how it was all arranged so that he wouldn't notice that anything had been disturbed. She yawned again, realizing the lateness of the hour. She glanced longingly at Draco's bed. It looked so inviting and the sound of the lake water lapping against the windows was so lulling. _Maybe I'll just rest my eyes for a bit,_ she thought, replacing everything in the trunk and locking it again before allowing herself to fall into the warm comfort of the ancient four-poster.

•¥•

She didn't remember falling asleep until Draco shook her awake.

"…time is it?" she asked, yawning.

"What the hell are you doing here, Prince?" he hissed, though he seemed more amused by her presence than bothered by it. "It's four o'clock."

Anne lifted her head and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before answering his question.

"I was keeping your bed warm, obviously."

While he processed the answer, she took time to stretch and get her bearings. _What_ am _I doing here_? she wondered. Blaise somehow remained asleep through the entire disturbance.

"He won't wake up," Draco assured her, seeing the question in her eyes as she glanced at the other boy.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Sleeping draught," Draco added casually, smirking as he pulled a set of emerald green silk pajamas from his trunk.

Anne cleared her throat and stood up quickly as Draco undid his belt.

"I'll, err, see you later, _Malfoy_ ," she said, averting her eyes as she walked to the door.

Before she could reach it, Draco tossed his shirt at her back. She turned and caught it instinctively, catching a glimpse of him in his underwear. He laughed, enjoying her shocked expression. Anne decided not to give him the further satisfaction of an audience.

She tossed his shirt in the trash bin and walked out of the room.

•¥•

Pansy was snoring loudly when Anne at last returned to their room. Anne dropped backward onto her bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. A few hours passed before she finally gave up on trying to sleep. Her stomach growled; it was almost breakfast time, so she stood and looked in her trunk for a fresh change of clothes.

Upon arriving at the Great Hall, she found that she'd lost her appetite. Her stomach was still turning from the earlier interaction with Malfoy. She tried to focus on nibbling at a slice of toast and sipped occasionally from a goblet of orange juice. She glanced up as Pansy walked into the Great Hall dragging Draco by the arm.

She tensed when Draco sat beside her without invitation.

"Nothing looks appetizing," Pansy immediately complained, pushing aside her empty plate, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands.

Draco shrugged and reached over Anne for an apple, nearly toppling her goblet of juice. She glared at him.

"I hope you choke on that."

He bit into it slowly, chewed, and swallowed before whispering, "I hope your drink was poisoned."

She retaliated by _accidentally_ spilling said drink in his lap.

" _Ass_ ," she spat the word as she rose and left the Great Hall, her unfinished toast forgotten.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two:**

Anne returned to the Great Hall for the distribution of class schedules after most of the students had left. As the head of Slytherin House, it was up to Severus Snape to confirm that everyone had achieved the required O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s. When Anne approached him, he congratulated her on achieving Outstanding in all of her O.W.L.s and cleared her to continue with Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Arithmancy, and Astronomy. He tapped a blank parchment with his wand and offered Anne her new class schedule.

"I'm glad you're teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, Severus," she remarked, taking the schedule from him.

"Yes," he nodded. "However, I will remind you to address me as your professor while you are here."

"Of course, _sir_ ," Anne replied with a smirk. "Oh, and, I'd like to play for the House Quidditch team this year," she added while perusing her schedule, noting that she had a free period before Severus's first class as the newly-appointed teacher of her favorite subject.

"I will let Urquhart know that you are interested," he promised, dismissing her so that he could finish distributing the rest of the students' schedules.

•¥•

An hour later, Anne made her way up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor. There was already a line formed in the corridor full of students conversing anxiously about what Snape's class might be like. Just then, the door opened and Severus stepped into the corridor, silencing the students at once.

"Inside," he commanded.

Anne noticed that the room looked a lot gloomier than it had in past years. Severus had drawn the curtains, blocking out the sun, and the room was instead illuminated solely by candlelight. Unlike the self-obsessed Gilderoy Lockhart, who had taught the subject during their second year and filled the room with portraits of himself, Snape had elected to display gruesome photographs depicting the effects of various curses and maladies.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," Snape said as he walked toward his desk and turned to face the class.

Several students hastily dropped their textbooks back into their bags and sat at attention. Severus was one of the few teachers capable of maintaining order in his classroom without effort. When he spoke, everyone listened. Everyone, except for Anne. She sat silently, her mind on other things, while Snape lectured the students, hearing only snippets of his introductory speech.

"The Dark Arts, are…" he was saying, speaking in a low voice as he walked around the edge of the room, "…like fighting a many-headed monster."

Anne wished he wouldn't talk so much. She had little patience for lectures and was eager to get into the practical aspect of this class, having already learned much of the material that would be covered throughout the year.

"Your defenses…" Snape continued, speaking a bit louder as he made his way back to the front of the room. "Now, I believe you are complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells."

 _Finally,_ Anne thought, sitting up straighter and facing Severus, who had returned to his desk and was now addressing them more directly.

"What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" he asked, looking around the entire room before calling on the only girl who had raised her hand. "Very well… Miss Granger?"

Hermione Granger provided the class with a textbook answer, which Severus dismissed as such before continuing with the lesson. Anne knew that if she had answered the question instead, Severus would have awarded points to Slytherin out of favoritism.

"You will now divide into pairs," he told them. "One of you will attempt to jinx the other, _without speaking_ , and the other will attempt to repel the jinx, _in equal silence_. Carry on."

By the end of the period, Hermione and Anne alone had successfully completed the task, a feat for which only the latter earned twenty points for her House.

•¥•

After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Anne used the following free period to get a start on the homework Snape had assigned. Next she had Arithmancy (more homework), and then lunch.

The Great Hall was buzzing with the chatter of the hundreds of students who were discussing the start of term, among them, the new crop of first years who were simultaneously excited and terrified. Anne was adding notes to her copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ when Draco showed up late for lunch, alone. Anne thought it odd that he was once again without his usual company and was about to ask if Crabbe and Goyle had already managed to get another detention when she noticed the look in his eyes.

"W— You look awful," she observed, putting down her quill and examining him more closely as he sat next to her on the bench.

He huffed and shook his head, turning to look at her, but words seemed to fail him.

"What?" she teased, "Parkinson got your tongue?"

He breathed out a laugh, "Funny, Anne."

He hadn't called her anything but 'Prince' since fourth year. She tried to hide her surprise by reaching for her goblet of cider and taking a sip.

"Are you ill?" she asked. Draco did appear paler than usual, and preoccupied. She waved her goblet in front of his face to get his attention. "Draco?"

He blinked.

"Welcome back," she said, replacing her drink on the table and gazing at her reflection in the liquid, her long black hair falling in a curtain in front of her. "I read about your father in the Prophet," she mentioned quietly. "Is everything alright at home? I mean, how's Narcissa?" Anne was nearly whispering then.

"Mother's been…" he trailed off. He seemed to be battling with himself about something. "Everything is fine," he stated firmly.

"You know, we used to be friends, Draco" she reminded him while she resealed her bottle of invisible ink and gathered her things into her bag. "Oh, here comes your girlfriend," she informed him, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stood to leave.

Draco glanced up from his empty plate. Pansy was indeed headed in their direction.

"Where have you _been_?" Pansy squawked.

"I'll see you later," Anne told them, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked back at Draco with mild concern before leaving the odd couple to their muffled argument and returning to the common room to finish the rest of her homework.

•¥•

Double Potions was the last class on Anne's schedule for the day. The new Potions Master, Horace Slughorn, was a rotund man with a bushy walrus-like mustache. His belly preceded him through the door when he stepped out to greet the small group of students who had advanced to N.E.W.T. level, among which were Draco and Zabini, another Slytherin named Theodore Nott, three Gryffindors (including Hermione Granger), four Ravenclaws, and a pompous Hufflepuff boy. Everyone immediately segregated themselves by House, leaving the lone Hufflepuff to share a table with the Gryffindors.

"Now, I've prepared a few potions for you to look at," he began by pointing out a cauldron in front of the Slytherin table, "Anyone tell me what this one is?"

Slughorn seemed to take an immediate liking to Hermione Granger's quick answers and after introducing the variety of potions he had prepared, he set them the task of brewing the Draught of Living Death. He promised the student with the best result a tiny vial of Felix Felicis—twelve hours worth of liquid luck.

"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather…" Draco was saying.

"Yes…" Slughorn replied dismissively, walking around the tables inspecting the students' work, "…time's up! Stop stirring, please!"

Professor Slughorn was the polar opposite of Snape in his approach to teaching. Not only had he ignored Draco's attempts to gain favor, but where Severus loathed the Potter boy, Slughorn doted on him.

"The clear winner!" he beamed upon reaching the Gryffindor's table after peering into everyone's cauldrons.

While Anne was mildly surprised that Harry Potter appeared to have brewed a near-perfect potion on his first attempt despite coming to class unprepared, she was not as genuinely disappointed as Draco seemed to be.

 _Why does Draco need luck?_ she wondered on the way to dinner.

•¥•

"Can you believe Potter's luck?" Zabini directed the question at Anne, "Yours didn't look far off from what the book described, Prince."

She shrugged and pushed aside her dinner plate to make room for her textbooks.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Blaise worried, pointing out the lavish buffet of food before them on the table.

Without looking up from her notes, Anne assured him that although she appreciated his concern, she wasn't really hungry.

"What are you writing in there anyway?" he inquired, trying to read over her shoulder as she scribbled out some unseen annotation in the margins of _Confronting the Faceless_. This was nearly impossible for him to do as Anne's hair was once again a curtain in front of her as she stooped over her work.

She sighed and raised her head to gaze at the bemused boy, shutting her book and dropping her quill lightly into the inkpot.

"What do you want, Zabini?" she asked as she ran her fingers through her hair in an exasperated attempt to keep it out of her face.

"You still haven't told me your name," he commented now that he had her attention.

Just as she was about to tell him what he could do with his curiosity, Pansy approached them frantically.

"Anne," she gasped, "have you seen Draco?"

 _Great timing, Parkinson_ , Anne cursed her internally.

"No, _Pansy_ , I have not seen him since we left Potions. I thought you two were having dinner with Crabbe and Goyle."

"But I don't know where they are, either!" she panted. "I've looked everywhere."

"Well, they aren't _here_ ," Anne snapped. "Go away, Parkinson." And she hastily reopened her book, grateful for the cover her hair provided.

•¥•

Zabini was smirking victoriously as they trudged the familiar path to the Slytherin dungeon.

"Anne," he tested the name out loud, "Anne Prince. I told you I would find out your name," he said.

"It wasn't much of a challenge, Zabini," she contended icily.

He conceded that Pansy had definitely facilitated the task for him.

"Tch. It's not as if it's classified information," Anne countered, yawning as they reached the stretch of wall that concealed the entrance to the common room.

" _Salazar_ ," Blaise muttered, stepping to the side and offering Anne first passage through the doorway. "Ladies first."

She yawned again once they were both inside the hall, the coals burning out in the fireplace. It was later than she thought. Most of the students had gone to bed, but a few stragglers still remained scattered among the array of high-backed leather chairs and plush green velvet sofas that furnished the room, mainly sixth and seventh-year students still adjusting to the already-overwhelming workload.

"Well, goodnight, Blaise," she excused herself from his company, once again walking away from him before he could utter more than a syllable.

"Good—night, Anne," he finished quietly.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three:**

After two long weeks of lessons, even Anne was struggling to keep up. Most of the work was easy for her, but she considered dropping Arithmancy and Astronomy. She reasoned that, while she did enjoy those classes, the burden of extra homework from them was unnecessary, especially since Quidditch was coming up. As she left the common room on Saturday morning, Anne glanced again at the notice that Urquhart had posted on the board. Tryouts were scheduled to be held later that day.

Blaise found Anne in the corridor outside of the Great Hall. Since learning her name, he had spent the past two weeks taking every opportunity to talk to her. Although he annoyed her greatly, his company was sometimes amusing, and she was beginning to grow accustomed to his presence.

"Good morning, Blaise," she greeted him as he caught up to her.

"Good morning, Anne," he replied, peering through the window at the misty morning. He then noticed the broom in her hand, "It's a bit early for flying. Aren't you going to eat something first?"

Anne shook her head, "I'm not very hungry," she told him.

"Right…" he nodded, pausing for a moment, and then suddenly he took the broom from her and spun her around toward the Great Hall, "you should eat."

She glared darkly at him, but allowed him to lead her to the Slytherin table where Pansy was already pouring milk into a bowl of cereal.

"I thought you weren't eating," Pansy said, reaching for a spoon.

Anne huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Blaise grinned and took a seat in front of Pansy, pouring two bowls of cereal for himself and Anne. He leaned the broom on the bench beside him and motioned for Anne to sit.

"Eat," he said. "You can't expect to fly very well on an empty stomach."

"Watch me," she challenged, lunging forward to take her broom, but Blaise was too quick. Sensing her intention, he grabbed it first, causing her to stumble and fall into his lap.

Pansy gasped and choked on her cereal, coughing and spluttering as she watched Anne struggle to reclaim her broom from Blaise's grasp.

"Give. It. Back. Zabini," she threatened, punctuating each word with a weak punch, "I swear I'll —"

"You'll what?" he chuckled. "Just eat, Anne," he insisted. "Is that so hard?"

"I— Fine," she agreed grudgingly.

Anne lifted herself from Blaise's lap and smoothed the wrinkles in her sweater, muttering under her breath as she reluctantly sat next to him, and then pulling the bowl of cereal toward her.

"Pass the berries," she grumbled at Pansy, "and shut your mouth, you're drooling."

•¥•

"I still can't believe you actually let Zabini tell you what to do. I really thought you were going to curse him," Pansy sounded disappointed.

Anne pretended not to hear her.

The two were headed toward the Quidditch pitch. It was drizzling lightly and the Slytherin tryouts were still a few hours away, but Anne really wanted to do some flying beforehand. When they reached the pitch, Anne noticed that a large crowd had gathered in the stands to watch the Gryffindor's Quidditch tryouts. Most of them were gawking as a large boy who was trying out for Keeper flew off in the completely wrong direction to block an incoming shot.

"Did that moron look _Confunded_ to you?" she asked Pansy offhandedly as they found seats in the stands to watch the last of the contenders hoping to join the team.

"Who?" Pansy had brought along her copy of The Daily Prophet from breakfast and was completely absorbed in the newspaper's advice column.

"Never mind, Parkinson," Anne rolled her eyes. She knew Pansy had only come to the pitch with her because Draco was on the Slytherin Quidditch team. He hadn't shown up for breakfast and Pansy was determined to corner him at tryouts.

As soon as the crowd dispersed and the new Gryffindor team was chosen, Anne grabbed her broom and took off from the stands into the cool air. It had stopped drizzling and the sun was now trying to break through the clouds. Anne smiled as her hair fluttered behind her while she flew laps around the pitch.

Flying was second nature to Anne. Her father taught her to fly before she could really walk. Anne's first flying lesson took place several feet off the ground in her family's Quidditch pitch on the back of her father's broom. She smiled at the memory.

Whenever she needed to clear her head, Anne would take to the air. Since her father had given Anne her first broom, flying had become her hideaway. As she circled the goal posts, she thought about what had happened earlier. In only two weeks, Blaise had already become so comfortable around her. Pansy wasn't far off in thinking that Anne was going to curse him for embarrassing her, she had certainly wanted to and easily could have, but something had stopped her.

She was so lost in thought that she did not notice that the others had arrived until the shrill screech of Urquhart's whistle broke her reverie. Anne drifted toward the small group gathered around the Slytherin's team captain and touched down beside Draco, whom Pansy was busy fussing over.

"Not now," he hissed, and then noticed Anne. "Do you need something, Prince?"

She held her broom out to him, smirking.

"No way," he said flatly.

"Yes," she stated.

"You can't do this," he chided as he walked away from her to stand with the others.

"We'll see about that, Malfoy. It's not your decision anyway," she shrugged, following him. "What? Are you afraid I'll show you up?"

•¥•

 _The tall, dark-haired man and his tiny companion touched down at the front door of Malfoy Manor. This was the first time the man's daughter had accompanied him to this place. Usually when her father and Lucius Malfoy had business to discuss, they did so in her father's study._ _Today, however, the girl's father had brought her along because he wanted her to meet Lucius and Narcissa's son, Draco. The child had agreed enthusiastically; it would be nice to have a friend before it was time to go to Hogwarts._

 _She was excited._

 _"Nicholas, Anne, welcome." Lucius greeted them with a nod. Narcissa stood smiling by his side._

 _"Lucius! Cissa!" a seven-year-old Anne grinned, running toward them._

 _Lucius laughed and walked off with Anne's father as Narcissa took Anne's hand and led her into the foyer._

 _"Draco, darling, come and say hello to Anne," she called as they entered._

 _Anne looked around from behind Narcissa's skirt at the slight, blonde boy strutting pompously toward them. She giggled. The boy looked like a younger Lucius, with shorter hair._

 _"Hello," he said simply. "Mother, is father ever going to teach me to fly?" he asked her._

 _"Oh, dear, well your father's quite busy at the mo—"_

 _"I can teach you," Anne piped up. "Cissa, does Draco have a broom? I left mine outside."_

 _"Certainly, Anne," she said, caught a little off-guard. "I'll get it and meet you there."_

 _"Thank you."_

 _Anne took Draco by the arm and practically dragged him into the front yard. "You're going to love flying," she assured him._

 _"Let go of me, stupid girl," he huffed. "What do_ you _know about flying any—?"_

 _Anne took off before he could finish the question._

" _Silly boy," she teased him from the air. "Catch me if you can!"_

•¥•

Anne left the pitch alone a short while later. Her trial had gone smoothly and the contemptuous expression on Draco's face when she was declared one of the new Chasers was still fresh in her mind. Pansy stayed behind hoping that Draco would talk to her, but from what Anne had seen, Draco seemed anxious to leave as soon as the tryouts ended. She wasn't overly concerned about the relationship between those two, though she couldn't help pitying Pansy a little.

Anne reached the common room just as Zabini was leaving. _Damn it,_ she thought. She pushed past him, hoping he hadn't noticed her. _Don't talk to me, please don't talk to me,_ she begged him silently, keeping her gaze low as she beelined toward the girls dormitory. Before she could reach her destination, Blaise saw her.

"How did it go?" he asked.

She froze, clenching and unclenching her fist. _So close._ She sighed then, and turned around feigning surprise.

"Zabini," she cleared her throat, "Well," she smirked, "you are looking at the newest Chaser on the Slytherin team."

"See? I knew you'd fly better with some food in you," he winked. "You don't have to thank me," he added, casually adjusting his tie.

"Idiot," she laughed, "I could out-fly you any day, with or without food."

"I don't know about that…" he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, err, Anne," he breathed, "Damn. I wasn't expecting you to look so…"

She watched him curiously, raising an eyebrow as he suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.

"You know I can't hear you if you mumble, Zabini," she pressed. "While I would love to stay and chat, I really need to change out of these clothes, and it's lunch time, so we should really —"

"Anne-I-really-like-you," he exhaled in a single breath before inhaling again. "I really like you," he repeated. "I was actually on my way to look for you, and then you burst in with your hair windblown and your face flushed and your…" he groaned.

Anne stared at him, blinking slowly. "My…?" and then she started laughing. "Blaise. What the _hell_ are you talking about? My hair? Ha!"

He looked crestfallen for a moment, clearly hurt by her reaction. She raised her hand slowly, tempted to console him, but she thought better of it. He was adjusting his tie again. She sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said flatly. "Hey," she continued, smirking, "why don't you wait for me to do something about my 'windblown hair' and I'll join you for lunch, alright?"

"Sure," he said lightly, "but, to be honest," he grinned, his suavity returning, "I wasn't really looking at your hair."

She gasped, shoving him, and then rushed toward the dormitory before he could retaliate.

•¥•

Anne was distracted from what Pansy was saying about Draco at dinner that night because Blaise kept reaching over to grab desserts from the tray in front of her. Pansy, immersed in her endless relationship problems, was utterly unaware that neither he nor Anne were paying any attention to her. Finally Anne spoke up.

"Where is Draco, anyway?" she asked, slapping Blaise's hand away as he tried to take another treacle tart. "You have five on your plate, Zabini," she said through her teeth, "I think that's enough."

"I don't _know_ ," Pansy huffed, her lip quivering. "He said he was busy with his 'job.' I'm so worried about him."

 _Job? What job?_ Anne was confused, but knew that Pansy would never give her the information she needed. She would have to get it from the source. _But where_ is _he?_ she thought, _What the hell is he doing?_

"Will you _stop it_?" she hissed at Blaise, but it wasn't Zabini that had tapped her shoulder.

"Miss Prince," Severus Snape's voice was as greasy as his hair. "May I have a word?"


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four:**

"What is it, Severus?" Anne asked once they were safely in Snape's office. She watched his impassive face intently, trying to read in his eyes what he wouldn't tell her in the Great Hall. "Am I in trouble?" she joked lightly.

"No, Anne," he answered, "and I'll remind you, again, to address me as your professor while we are at Hogwarts."

"Severus," she continued, ignoring him, "what is it?" She paused for a moment, suddenly worried. "Did something happen to my father?"

He shook his head, pointing his wand into the hallway before shutting the door, and then turned to face her.

"Are you close to Draco Malfoy?" he asked, walking toward his desk and motioning for her to take a seat as well.

"Draco?" she began. "I haven't seen or heard from him since Quidditch this morning," she stated, avoiding the question.

Draco and Anne had been close once.

Her father had attended Hogwarts with Lucius Malfoy and the two had grown up together. Both men were well-connected at the Ministry, and both made regular contributions to the school. Nicholas Prince had wanted his daughter and Lucius's son to be friends as well, and so he had invited her to join him on a trip to the manor, where she first met the boy who tried so hard to make his father proud.

•¥•

" _Hey!" Draco called, now holding his broom and staring enviously at the girl flying loops around the gate. "Come back!"_

 _She flew toward him and touched down, brushing her long hair back from her tiny face._

" _What?" she grinned._

 _He looked from the new broom in his hand to her and then at the looming iron gate that she had been flying over only a short while ago._

" _Who taught you to fly like that?" he posed the question hesitantly._

" _My father," she answered, smiling. "He was on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts. I want to be on the team, too, but I'm not sure what position to try for."_

" _First years aren't allowed to try out," he reminded her pointedly._

" _I know that," she returned. "My father was a Keeper. He taught me how to play. Do you have a pitch?" she suddenly asked, looking at him expectantly._

" _No…" he answered solemnly, "father and I don't really play. He —" Draco paused, looking at his feet._

 _Anne watched him curiously._ He looks so sad _, she thought._

" _Draco," she patted his shoulder, "I'm going to be your friend."_

" _Don't_ touch _me," he shrugged her hand off of him, but then he looked at her broom again. "C— Can you really teach me how to fly?"_

 _Anne smiled._

 _Draco took to flying almost as naturally as she had, and before long the two were racing each other along the hedges surrounding the manor. Narcissa watched them from the doorway._

 _Once their fathers stepped out into the yard, Draco raced toward Lucius excitedly._

" _Father, look!"_

" _That's wonderful, son," Lucius said distractedly as he bade Anne and her father farewell, "come inside now."_

•¥•

 _Over the years, Draco grew distant and more pompous than before, consequently becoming nearly impossible to get along with. He constantly reminded everyone of his blood status and flaunted his family's wealth at every opportunity. Anne suspected it had more to do with Lucius than Draco himself._

 _She knew that when Draco was alone, he was different. Anne liked_ that _Draco. She was friends with that Draco. Without his lackeys, Draco was just himself, and he told Anne everything. It wasn't until their fourth year, however, that he finally told her that his parents were Death Eaters._

 _He and Anne were sitting on a table in an empty classroom on the third floor. They had found this place in second year, before the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. They were currently hiding from Pansy. The Yule Ball would soon take place, and Pansy had been breathing down Draco's neck since it was announced._

" _Are you going with her?" Anne asked him._

" _I can't exactly take Crabbe or Goyle, can I?" he laughed bitterly._

" _Oh come on," she teased, "you_ know _plenty of girls fancy you. Pansy is just more… obvious about it."_

" _Shut up," he laughed, pushing her gently._

 _Anne rolled her eyes, "Don't pretend you don't love the attention. Especially since Harry Potter managed to somehow get himself involved in the Tournament…"_

 _She allowed the words to hang in the air between them awhile, knowing this was a sore subject for Draco, who was incredibly jealous of the Boy Who Lived._

" _Anne," he broke the tense silence, poking her side with his wand. "Can I ask you something?"_

" _Oh…" she met his eyes then shook her head repeatedly, "No, no. No," she replied. "I don't dance."_

" _Don't be stupid," he recoiled, making a face, "I could never see you like… that."_

" _What is it, then?"_

 _She raised her brow, awaiting his response._

 _He twirled his wand between his fingers, averting his eyes._

" _It's — my parents," he started, his voice dropping to a bare whisper._

" _What about them?" she pressed._

" _D'you know what happened at the World Cup?" he asked._

" _Yes, it was absolute chaos," she remembered. Her father had taken her away by side-along apparition when the Death Eaters had appeared and began torturing the Muggles. "Why?"_

" _Well…"_

" _Draco, what is it? Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?"_

 _She knew that Draco's parents were not fond of those they considered beneath them. They constantly spoke of them in a condescending manner, Draco's father especially. A horrid thought occurred to her._

" _Lucius wasn't_ involved… _Was he?" she gasped._

 _Draco remained silent for a long time. Anne shook her head, guessing the answer from his silence._

" _Anne, my parents are Death Eaters," he muttered, "they believe the Dark Lord is… They say he's coming back."_

 _She glanced at him in disbelief, the Malfoys had always been good friends to her parents. Of course, the families disagreed in their views of Muggles and Muggleborns, and Anne knew that Lucius was fascinated by the Dark Arts. Even so, she never suspected that Draco's parents, who were always so pleasant to her, were actually involved with such an immoral and unspeakably evil dark wizard. She felt so stupid for not guessing it sooner. Why had Draco waited so long to tell her?_

" _Your parents," she choked, "were involved in the torture of innocent people… and you…_ You…"

 _It wasn't so much what Draco had just told her that upset Anne, but how long he had waited to do so. Seven years… They had been friends for seven years, and in all of that time, he had never mentioned it._

 _She jumped off the table, unable to look at him, processing everything he had just told her in not-so-many words as she rushed out of the room._

" _Anne!" he called after her, but she did not turn back._

•¥•

"I see," Severus intoned, pulling Anne from her thoughts.

Her surprise quickly turned to anger as she realized what Severus had done.

"You _bastard_ ," she whispered.

His lip curled, "Perhaps, it would benefit you to practice your Occlumency, Anne."

"Y— That was uncalled for," she mumbled weakly. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, sealing her mind from any further attempts he might make to invade her thoughts. "What do you want from me?" She opened her eyes slowly, meeting Severus's dark gaze measuredly, "Why are you so interested in what _I_ know about Draco?"

He considered her for a long moment, gauging whether or not he could trust her, Anne suspected. She leaned back in her chair, thinking that perhaps she might be able to gain the information she sought from Severus rather than confronting Draco directly.

"Does it have something to do with the _job_ Draco's doing?" she speculated, pausing to watch Snape's reaction.

His eyes betrayed a hint of surprise at her remark.

 _Aha_ , she thought triumphantly.

"It's about his father, isn't it?" she guessed, remembering how Draco had reacted to her mention of Lucius at the start of term.

"Not entirely," Snape said slowly, and then he nodded, as though deciding he could trust Anne with the information. "I… told Narcissa that I would watch over him…" he explained, his words trailing off.

Anne furrowed her brow. _Is Draco in danger?_ she wondered. She still could not guess what Severus actually wanted her to do. He saved her the trouble of asking.

"Anne, I have a task for you." He formed his fingers into a tent in front of him. "I would like for you to find out what Draco is doing," he continued. "He has been avoiding me… I am concerned for his safety."

"You want me to babysit Malfoy for you?" she cocked an eyebrow, frowning.

"I want you to keep an eye on him and let me know if he does anything… unusual. I'm sure the boy will appreciate your, ah, friendship," he responded. "You are dismissed."

He pointed his wand at the door and it swung open. Anne stared at Snape bemusedly before rising to leave. A strange buzzing filled her ears as she stepped into the hall.

"So you want me to spy on him, then?" she turned to ask, pausing at the doorway.

Severus stood up and waved his wand at the door causing it to swing shut in her face. Anne blinked and stepped back, not entirely surprised by the man's rudeness.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" she mumbled.

•¥•

Anne had her feet propped on the table and her copy of _Confronting the Faceless_ open on her lap, browsing through what would presumably be covered in the day's lesson. At Severus's insistence, Draco sat scowling next to Anne at the table closest to where Snape sat at his desk, grading their homework.

Without looking up from her book, Anne spoke to Draco quietly.

"Draco," she kept her voice even, "can I ask you something?"

"Feet _off_ the table, Miss Prince," Snape spoke suddenly. He had apparently finished grading their work and was now returning it to the students. "Well done," he added, holding out her essay on Inferi.

Anne snorted, closing her book and sliding her feet off the table as she took the roll of parchment from him.

"Thank you, professor," she smirked.

"See me after class," Severus murmured to Draco before moving on to the next table.

•¥•

Anne caught Draco by the arm as he hurried out of the classroom into the corridor, clearly choosing to ignore Severus's invitation.

"Draco, wait!" Anne sighed, already hating the idea, "Can we talk?"

Just then, she spotted Pansy hurrying toward them. Draco considered his options, hesitating for only a moment before he took Anne's hand and pulled her away from the crowd of students to the stairs.

She smiled in spite of herself, allowing him to lead her. Her smile faded once she realized they were not heading toward the empty classroom on the third floor. They walked silently for several minutes until Anne stopped abruptly and yanked her hand free from his.

They were now on the seventh floor, standing in front of a tapestry on which Barnabas the Barmy was attempting to teach trolls ballet.

"Draco, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" she hissed.

"We need somewhere to talk," he replied, and then began pacing.

She followed him with her eyes, wondering why _this_ particular corridor was any better of a place to speak privately than their old haunt. Anyone could walk by at any given moment.

"Will you stop that?" she blurted, exasperated. "You're making me nerv—"

A door had appeared in the wall opposite the tapestry, shocking Anne into silence. Draco pushed it open and motioned her inside, holding a finger to his lips as she opened her mouth to protest.

"What is this place?" Anne marveled as she entered the room.

She never knew such a room existed in the castle. It wasn't a very large space, admittedly, and it was furnished rather simply—a plush leather sofa set before a small fireplace—but it was perfect for a private conversation.

"So you _don't_ know everything," Draco smiled slyly as he shut the door behind him.

Anne plucked a cushion from the sofa and tossed it at Draco's head. He caught it easily, chuckling as he walked toward her, inviting her to sit.

"So," he drawled, setting the cushion on his lap and waiting for Anne to speak.

"So," Anne echoed, forcing a smile as she cleared her throat. "Draco, I just wanted to say th—"

"I'm sorry, Anne," he interjected, directing the apology at the cushion on his lap.

"What?" she blinked and shook her head, unsure if she heard him correctly. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and then she began laughing slowly. "Ha, ha ha, Draco Lucius Malfoy… Draco 'my father will hear about this' Malfoy is apologizing to _me_? I don't believe it."

Draco's face colored slightly at the mention of his father, causing Anne to stop laughing at once.

"Oh, _crap_ , Malfoy. I'm sorry," she bit her lip, "I just didn't expect…"

"It's fine, Anne," he sighed quietly, his eyes still downcast.

"Look at me," she told him, "Draco…"

He was shaking. She slid closer to him and gently tugged the cushion out of his hands, cautiously placing one of her own on his shoulder. Draco raised his head slowly and Anne saw that he had tears in his eyes. _Damn it, Draco,_ she thought, remembering what Severus had asked her to do, _you're not making this easy._

"Anne," he was crying in earnest now, his body shuddering under her hand as it rested on his shoulder. She didn't mean to take advantage of his emotion the way she did, but Severus had taught her well. Steeling herself, she squeezed Draco's shoulder lightly and focused on the task that Severus set for her. _Legilimens_ , she thought, peering for the first time into the mind of the first friend she ever had.

She saw in his memories the night they stopped speaking, him punching the table and cursing after she was gone. Then a glimpse of the night that Lucius was caught and imprisoned for the incident at the Ministry, Narcissa crying. Next, Anne saw a snake-like man in billowing black robes entering Draco's home. Then, Draco sneaking into Knockturn Alley, walking purposefully toward a shop; the sign over the door read…

The sound of Draco's sobs had subsided. Anne pulled her hand off his shoulder and sat in silence for several minutes, trying to make sense of everything she had seen. She knew she couldn't ask Draco directly, as that would mean admitting she had read his mind. She sighed, allowing him the chance to speak first.

"I know I should have told you sooner," he croaked. "I didn't want to lose you, Anne. You were the only one who ever saw _me_ ," he continued, "not Lucius Malfoy's son, just… me."

 _You have no idea,_ Anne thought, smiling weakly. She nodded, tracing her finger absently around the pattern on the cushion she had taken from Draco's lap. He watched her curiously, his head slightly tilted, similar to how her owl, Sorrow, looked at her when she was waiting for a treat after delivering a letter.

Anne thought again of what Severus had said, _I'm sure the boy will appreciate your, ah, friendship…_ Her smile widened to a grin as she turned to meet Draco's sad, gray eyes, and patted his shoulder as she had nine years ago.

"Draco," she said, "I'm going to be your friend."

 _Even if you might be a Death Eater…_ she thought somberly.


End file.
